


Because It's a Tragedy

by ineptshieldmaid



Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Peter, before auditions</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because It's a Tragedy

Jason stretched himself out on his bed and folded his hands behind his head. He had belongings strewn across his half of the room, his wardrobe doors hanging open and a haphazard slew of textbooks spilling off his desk and onto the bed. He ought to be studying, revising something. (Who studied on the first night back, anyway? Probably Matt did.) There were a hundred things Jason would rather be doing, and most of them involved Peter, but there were still people thundering up and down the corridors, banging on doors and sticking their heads into rooms in a frenzy of reunion. Jason, Jason, come downstairs- Lukas' got a new poker set, we're watching _The Fast and the Furious_, Jason, Jason…

Jason smiles, smirks, welcomes, teases, throws back greetings and insults, and thinks he should love the clamour of it all. He thinks the roit of teenagers in the halls should be a haven, but the transition is too sudden. Just this morning he woke to the silences and emptiness of his parents' house, the end of a vacation of silencs punctuated only by Nadia shouting. And now everyone is shouting, and the corridors are packed, and even Peter seems to take up too much space in the room.

There was a whole gaggle in their door- Zac and Tania and assorted hangers-on, wanting Jason, wanting him to come downstairs, wanting him to laugh and shine. Jason didn't sigh as he sat up and looked around for his shoes. (He _could_ say no, after all.)

'Hey Jason,' Peter glanced back over his shoulder at him, and Jason thought he caught a flash of sympathy in his eyes. 'You still going to run over the audition pieces with me?'

Jason had made no such promise, and he fought back a private smirk as he tells the others that no, no, he's already spoken for tonight. He's going to help Peter, and then he really has to get stuck into his books, you know how it is… And then Peter had closed the door, and after the lock clicked there was blessed silence. Peter regarded Jason solemnly for a moment and then beamed down at him, almost gloating. Jason considered grinning back, considered staring up at Peter through his eyelashes (who said only girls knew how to use their eyelashes?), considered presenting him with his very best look of unalloyed lust and watching the colour come into his face. Before he could decide, he was reaching out and Peter was dropping to his knees by the bed, just the right height for Jason to wrap his arms around Peter and bury his face in Peter's hair. He felt just the same in Jason's arms, _smelt_ just the same, and if it weren't for the fact that this all feels comfortable now, it'd be as if nothing had changed since- when was it? How long ago now? Nearly a year, Jason supposes. Peter is a pool of steadiness with his arms wrapped around Jason, and some things haven't changed since they faced each other across their freshman room: Peter, who never asks for wit or humour or grandiosity. Peter, who moves softly around the room and knows when not to speak. Peter, who never asks why Jason loses his temper, who thinks a B- is just a mark on paper and yet somehow never mocks Jason for caring so much.

Jason thinks this charming reunion has gone on long enough, because the next thoughts in his mind will be thoughts of losing this- of some other, raucous roommate in a college miles away; of Peter going to Berkely (what happened to facing Notre Dame together?), and then he will be thinking of college and life and the future, and he has a policy of not thinking about that sort of thing unless he absolutely must. It's not as if he has a _choice_, after all.

'I missed you,' Peter murmured against his ear, and Jason caught _Peter_'s ear with his teeth and lips, nibbling and kissing. He grinned to himself, smug, when Peter shivered against him. This was almost too easy.

'Missed you too,' Jason chuckled into the ear in question, feeling more like himself, and filling the three words with suggestion. Peter leant up and caught Jason's lips with his own, and Jason knew how this was going to go: fast and urgent, familiar and ungainly, until both are exhausted and they fall together onto one bed or the other. He leaned into the kiss, tightened his arms around Peter, taking charge as usual. Unusually, Peter nipped at Jason's lip with his teeth, and Jason drew in a sharp breath. Then Peter pulled back with a smirk- that's actually a _smirk_, and not just any smirk, it's Jason's _own_ smirk reflected perfectly back at him. (Did they have matching facial expressions now? Would anyone notice? Did Peter use that smirk on other people, like Jason used it on Ivy and Diane? Who _would_ Peter smirk at, if not Jason?)

Lost in this surprising new train of thought, Jason snapped back to reality when Peter pulled out of his embrace (what? Did he do something wrong?). Peter, still smirking (who gave him permission to use that smirk, anyway? That was _his_ smirk for making Peter blush, it shouldn't work on him, Jason, shouldn't make his stomach jolt like that), turned around to fish something out of his bag (what had he… what was he playing at?), and then he dropped a heavy comb-bound book into Jason's hands.

Jason stared. Peter smirked. Jason read: _Romeo and Juliet- a Musical Performance. Words by William Shakespeare; Music and arrangement by Sr Maria Chantelle._

'I don't act,' Jason grumped. Couldn't they get back to the kissing now? Peter was _still_ smirking, damn him (although actually the kissing part would do that, wouldn't it?).

'I do,' Peter declared. 'And you promised you'd help me run lines.'

'I did not.'

'You just told Zac you did.'

Jason snorted. Outwitted. 'C'mon, _Romeo_,' he twisted the word with sarcasm (Quiet, careful Peter, as Romeo, world-class Impulsive Idiot? Oh, and there was the part where Romeo liked _girls_). 'Haven't we got better things to be doing?' Jason looked up at him, through his eyelashes. Just right- there was the blush on Peter's cheeks. He might have Jason's smirk down, but no one could pull off Jason's best melting look without looking like an idiot (Jason privately thought _he_ looked like an idiot, but it worked on the girls. And on Peter).

Peter, still blushing, frowned a little. 'Jason, this is important to me,' he said quietly. Contrite, Jason reached out and tugged at Peter's arm until he gave in and sat down beside Jason. Jason couldn't resist pressing a kiss to Peter's lips: it was meant to be short and tender, meant to be apology and endearment in one. But then, Temperence had never been Jason's strongest virtue. (Peter was better at Virtues- he could recite all of them but Prudence on command. Jason, for his part, remembered Courage, and the rest be damned.)

With an effort of will, he pulled himself back from Peter's embrace and flipped the book open to the first marker.

'Come on, then,' he said, 'if you want Romeo, we'll make you the best Romeo this school has ever seen.'

'Thanks.' Peter laughed, 'but the Romeo thing is just for the audition. I don't want the part, and, besides, I had the lead last year.'

'Oh.' Jason frowned. 'Then who…?'

'Matt's got Romeo all tied up.'

Snort. 'I meant what part did you want?' (Silly moon-calf trailing at a different girl's heels every other week, Matt would suit the part just perfectly.)

Peter shrugged. 'Perhaps I'll try out for the Nurse!' He raised an eyebrow and ran his gaze over Jason from head to foot, slow and considering, as he sang:

_'Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talked on.' _ Peter was too good a mimic, Jason decided.

'You're fucked up, man. Don't _do_ that!' Jason gave him a sharp dig to the ribs, cutting off the rest of the verse.

'Do what?' Peter raised his other eyebrow this time and gave Jason the same once-over.

'That. Give me that look while you're singing in my_ sister's_ voice.'

Peter switched back to his own familiar tenor:

'_Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity._' He guestured expectantly at the script. Jason glanced down at it:__

'I would not for the world they saw thee here,' he pronounced. (Not for love or money was he going to be caught singing Juliet.)

'_I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight,_' Peter went on._ 'And but thou love me, let them find me here: my life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.'_

The silence sat heavy between them, but Peter made no further motions toward the script. Jason swallowed.

'Idiots,' he said gruffly. 'Both of 'em.'

'You said the same thing _last_ year,' Peter rebuked.

'Well, it was true.'

'Well, this time I agree with you.' Peter tucked himself under Jason's arm. 'I've always wondered why he didn't just take her to with him…'

'Because it's a _tragedy_,' Jason rolled his eyes. 'What would they do in anyway? No family, no position, nothing.'

'Except each other.'

'What sort of life is that?' Jason closed the script with a heavy thud. 'They should've left well enough alone in the first place.'

Peter took the script out of his hands with a small smile, and kissed him.


End file.
